The Villain’s Aide Has Run Away

“Ah…”

At Robin’s question, Leslun’s hand slowed. Because of that, Blue cast a disgruntled glance at Robin.

To dare steal attention when it should have been focused solely on petting him—Blue seemed displeased. It felt like there might be retaliation later, but Robin pretended not to notice and lifted his head.

“I have thought about it, but…”

Leslun trailed off.

“You’d do well to finish your sentences properly. An aide must let even a single word carry trust.”

At Robin’s sharp advice, Leslun couldn’t answer. Robin’s voice was cold, but his words weren’t wrong. Even he himself didn’t trust his own plan right now—so how could he possibly convince others?

“Aide Leslun.”

“Yes, Sir.”

At being called, Leslun looked up at him—only to be startled. Robin had lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

“Um… is something wrong?”

“To be addressed like that, it’s really…”

Could it be that the title had offended him?

“It just finally hit me—that I truly have a junior now.”

Ah. So that was the death rattle of someone on the brink of being worked to death. Leslun silently consoled him, remembering the overwork of his past life.

“Here.”

With some effort, Robin lifted his head again and spoke. Leslun also raised his head—only to find a piece of steak being held out in front of him.

“On second thought, speaking of headmaster candidates when the person before me hasn’t even the strength to talk properly… Let’s eat first. We’ll discuss it after.”

The steak on the end of the fork swayed gently, its juices glistening as if to say, You haven’t forgotten me, have you?

“Your arm’s about to fall off,” Robin added, urging him further.

Should he open his mouth and gratefully accept the bite? Take the fork as it was? Or just pull the piece of steak off with his hands? He hesitated.

In that moment, Blue made his move. Springing up from Leslun’s hand, the little cat snatched the steak.

With the meat clenched in its mouth, Blue glanced indifferently at Robin, then leisurely returned to Leslun’s hand. Robin, left holding an empty fork, froze with a dumbfounded look—before breaking into a smile.

“Let’s eat.”

As Robin started on his own share of food, Leslun was finally able to pick up his spoon again. The soup was warm, the bread soft.

Sharing a meal with someone like this—it was an unexpectedly heart-fluttering moment.

***

Just as Robin had said, eating gave him strength. Perhaps that was why Leslun finally found the courage to voice the words he’d been hesitating over.

“I would like to recommend Baron Kelly.”

Blurting out the conclusion so suddenly left Robin momentarily unable to react. Still savoring the aroma of black tea, Robin tilted his head.

It wasn’t really an unusual reaction. Yet seeing Robin sit so upright while tilting his head made Leslun feel that something about the image didn’t quite fit.

After a short silence, Leslun caught himself off guard. He had been overlaying Robin with the image of someone else that sprang to mind.

Not someone who ever sat straight-backed in a chair, but rather someone who always lounged, never pretending to listen.

‘I was imagining how the Crown Prince would react.’

Leslun realized he had been thinking of the Crown Prince.

“But if he is appointed, there will be far too few students. An empty academy—that is not the vision His Majesty had in mind.”

Even as Robin replied, as if reminding him that they had already heard this in the previous meeting, Leslun’s typically calm expression didn’t waver.

“Then we must fill it with students.”

“You make it sound simple. Most of the applicants will withdraw. And how do you propose to fill the academy then?”

“By admitting new students.”

Still seeing Robin’s incomprehension, Leslun elaborated:

“His Majesty never said that only the children of powerful houses must be accepted. Therefore, the scope of admission can be widened to include new types of students. In exchange…”

Robin’s gaze shifted slightly away from Leslun’s face.

Leslun paused, wondering why—and at the same time, he felt someone sit down beside him.

“In exchange?”

Without even the sound of a chair being drawn, someone slid naturally into the seat. The refined scent of expensive perfume drifted in as they took the place at Leslun’s side. A hand, extended without hesitation, brushed lightly against the end of his sleeve, and a tilted shoulder pressed softly against him.